


surround me (body and soul)

by babyamas



Series: we have not touched the stars [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Body Worship, Kissing, M/M, More touching, Rutting, Sexual Content, Touching, because lbr what else is it called
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyamas/pseuds/babyamas
Summary: Pull me into your glowMake me blush//Desire is not something Kiyoomi is familiar with but he explores it in the comfort of his own bedroom, with Atsumu lying underneath him.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: we have not touched the stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705186
Comments: 8
Kudos: 415
Collections: SakuAtsu Week 2020





	surround me (body and soul)

**Author's Note:**

> I was meant to post this for Day 4 of Sakuatsu week for Trace/Skin and I couldn't. Then I tried to make it work for Day 5 of tier two and couldn't finish on time so here we are. A whole week later. Hope y'all enjoy it!!!

It’s a hot summer, as far as summers in Japan go. The sun is blistering on most days and though practice is indoors and there’s air conditioning, the whole team is sweating buckets by the end. It’s fine for Kiyoomi, who somehow always manages to sneak into the showers right after practice whereas the others decide to stay behind and discuss different things relating to the game and their personal lives. By the time he’s done the others file in so Kiyoomi doesn’t have to deal with the overwhelming smell of sweat. It’s just a thought but he sometimes wonders if this is something his team members do just for his sake. He wouldn’t put it past them and if that’s the truth, he’s grateful.

Despite that, he waits outside the locker room anyway. 

It’s become a habit of sorts, to wait while Atsumu finishes getting ready, and then walking home together. Some days they’ll hold hands, other days they’ll link pinkies but since Kiyoomi realized that he feels comfortable with touching Atsumu and being touched back, he can’t help but want. 

He’s never really been one to want much. He wants to play volleyball and, more often than not, he wants to be left alone. Sometimes he wants to read a good book, immerse himself in an intricate story. Other times he wants to sit down and watch a match on TV without any interruptions. He’s a simple man who doesn’t really want all that much. 

But he wants to touch Atsumu. He wants it so bad. He wants it more than he’s wanted anything in his life. 

When Atsumu steps outside into the hallway Kiyoomi is waiting in, wearing nothing but a muscle tee and shorts, Kiyoomi’s face heats up. The sleeves of the tank top are loose enough that the shift of the muscles is evident when Atsumu throws his duffle bag over his shoulder. Kiyoomi’s eyes linger too long. 

“Thanks for waiting, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says, a dopey grin spreading across his face and Kiyoomi just rolls his eyes. Atsumu thanks him for waiting every single time despite the fact that it’s been at least three months of this routine. Sometimes they’ll walk around aimlessly, Atsumu doing most of the talking and Kiyoomi humming along in agreement or scowling in disagreement. There’s a lot of glaring on his end because Atsumu is always saying something stupid but for the most part he enjoys their walks. And then they’ll part at the bus stop, fingers tangling together before they break apart. Atsumu watches him walk away every time until he has to turn the corner and Kiyoomi can feel his eyes on him. 

Sometimes, though, Kiyoomi will tangle his fingers with Atsumu’s and hold on as they walk towards Kiyoomi’s apartment building. On these days they’ll sit side by side, touching most of the time as they spend their time on their phones, or watching TV, or reading. It’s so comfortable and Kiyoomi is constantly in awe of the fact that this is something he gets to have. 

Today he walks beside Atsumu, fingers seeking out his hand just to tangle their pinkies together while he looks straight ahead as not to catch the goofy smile that is surely present in the blonde’s face. It’s too much sometimes, looking straight at him, for Atsumu is brighter than the sun and everyone knows you’re not supposed to look directly at it. No matter how much he wants to. 

There’s that want, again. It’s as unfamiliar as touching once was. Though to be fair, touch is still unfamiliar to him, the only exception to that being the man walking by his side. 

Today they don’t say anything, exhausted from the gruesome practice and the heat. Their hands get clammy and though it should make Kiyoomi uncomfortable, it doesn’t. They’re only a few minutes from his apartment anyway and before he knows it they’re walking inside the air conditioned lobby, inside the elevator and then his front door. 

“You left your AC on, Omi-kun? That’s expensive, you know,” Atsumu says, stepping inside and placing his duffle bag next to his shoes. Everytime he comes over, Kiyoomi notices he leaves anything he doesn’t need with him near the door as if he doesn’t want to contaminate Kiyoomi’s living space. He wants to tell Atsumu that it doesn’t matter but sometimes it does and he’s grateful the other understands. 

“Some cool air won’t break the bank,” he drops his own bag by the door as well and walks further inside the apartment, taking out bottled water for the both of them from the fridge. When he turns to look at Atsumu he finds him fanning himself with the front of his tank top, revealing even more skin. Kiyoomi finds himself flushing at the sight of it, gaze caught between Atsumu’s face and is that a nipple?

If Atsumu were to comment on the fact that he looks flushed, he’d blame it on the heat even though his apartment is cooler than it had been outside but thankfully he doesn’t say anything. His eyes follow Kiyoomi as he moves around the room, a bit frantically as if looking for something, anything, to occupy himself with at the moment. 

“Everything okay, Omi-kun?” 

“Fine,” he says, too fast and too rough while still not being able to maintain Atsumu’s gaze. “You’re sweaty.” 

This time he does manage to steal a glance at Atsumu, standing there in the middle of his living room, shamelessly smirking as if he’s finally put two and two together to get the exact reason why Kiyoomi is suddenly acting the way he is. The smirk upon Atsumu’s lips is infuriating and god, he wants to kiss him. There’s that want, ever present. 

“Take a shower,” Kiyoomi blurts out then and watches as Atsumu’s eyes go just a bit wide. They’ve just showered before practice but they did walk in the blistering heat and the idea of touching sticky skin makes Kiyoomi just a bit uncomfortable. There’s also the face that this is so new and he knows that but he needs some time to collect his thoughts before he can decide exactly what it is he wants to do. Right now, he wants to walk closer, grab the hem of Atsumu’s tank top and pull it off his body. He wants to look at the muscles shift under his touch but he can’t yet. “I’ll bring you a towel and a change of clothes.” 

He leaves Atsumu looking shell-shocked in the living room as he walks towards his bedroom to grab a t-shirt and some shorts as well as a towel for him. Maybe Atsumu thinks this is something to do with Kiyoomi’s mysophobia but while that plays a small part, this is something completely different. 

When he walks back out into the living room he finds Atsumu standing there still, an unreadable expression on his face. He looks up at Kiyoomi’s face and quirks an eyebrow in question. 

“Omi-kun, am I reading this wrong?” 

Kiyoomi sighs. He’s not reading this wrong, of course he’s not but how does he tell Atsumu that he has an intense need to touch him right now. How does he tell Atsumu that the sight of his tan skin makes desire bloom in his chest like flowers growing in the desert. Right in between the ridges of his ribcage is a feeling like someone blowing dust away from an old book that hasn’t been picked up in years. He feels the yearning. Being around the other makes Kiyoomi feel like he’s being unmade.

It’s intense and scary but everything scary so far has been okay thanks to Atsumu being understanding and taking things at Kiyoomi’s pace. He knows this too will be similar because he’s overwhelmingly good. Despite his annoying habits on and off the court and his cocky personality, Atsumu is such a good person and when they’re alone Kiyoomi can see a lot of the facade fall away. It makes him tremble, to think that he’s lucky enough to have the chance to see him like this. 

“You’re not,” he finally says, handing Atsumu the clothes he’d gotten from his closet. “Is that okay?” 

“Yes, yes of course. As long as it’s okay with you Omi-omi.” The smile that accompanies his words is closer to a smirk but the expression is soft anyway and Kiyoomi has to turn away before Atsumu can catch sight of the way his own smile spreads over his face. 

“You know where the bathroom is,” he says but points down the end of the hallway regardless. “The shower is easy to work and you can use any of the shampoos or body wash.” 

Right as Atsumu turns to walk towards the bathroom, though, Kiyoomi stops him with a hand around his wrist. Just two fingers circling it to feel the pulse hammering away under his skin. 

“Don’t wear the t-shirt. If that’s okay with you.” 

And then he enters his bedroom, his heart beating loudly against his ribcage. 

***

He sits on his bed , awkwardly crossing and uncrossing his legs as he thinks about what he wants. There’s limitations to how much he can handle when it comes to anything physical and he knows that taking things slowly is the best way to go about it. Being touched is fine if it’s his hands, arms or over clothes but the need to touch is much greater at the moment. The only problem is he’s unsure how to broach the subject. Not because he thinks Atsumu won’t take him seriously but because he’ll find it hard to say anything without looking like a ripe tomato. 

When Atsumu knocks on his bedroom door, Kiyoomi stands, alert and curious. The door opens slowly and behind it he finds Atsumu, wet hair hanging on his forehead, droplets falling from it into his shoulders. Bare shoulders, a bare chest and Kiyoomi lifts his gaze before it can trail down any further. Already he can feel his cheeks heat up. 

“You said to not wear the shirt,” Atsumu says, using the towel to dry his hair to seemingly no avail, with the way droplets cling to the ends of the dyed-blonde strands. The words are almost lost to Kiyoomi with the way he can’t seem to stop looking at Atsumu, the movement of his hand as he runs it through his hair, the way the muscles in his shoulder shift and his arm flexes. It’s all very bad for Kiyoomi’s health.

“This is horrible,” Kiyoomi whispers to himself, running a hand over his face in hopes of chasing the blush away. The tips of his ears feel entirely too hot. He must look like a big red blob at the moment. “Sit on the bed for a second.” 

To his credit, Atsumu doesn’t ask any questions and when Kiyoomi chances a look at his face it’s not contorted into a cocky smirk or anything like that. He seems calm for the most part, albeit a bit flushed himself. That’s probably from the shower. 

“This is okay right?” 

“Yes. Yes, I just— I need to think.” 

Atsumu nods and waits. It’s things like this that make Kiyoomi realize that the feelings he has for Atsumu are far stronger than just the initial need to be touched by him in order to chase his itch away. It’s the fact that he’s been understanding about something Kiyoomi has been ridiculed for his entire life. It’s the fact that he is so patient with Kiyoomi when other people wouldn’t have given him the luxury to think things over. It’s the way he looks at Kiyoomi with softened features and the way he speaks to him in a quiet voice when they’re alone because he knows it’s what Kiyoomi prefers. 

It’s only been a few months but Kiyoomi realizes startingly that he might actually be falling in love despite him not knowing what that truly means. There are few things that are able to sneak up on Kiyoomi but the way he feels around Atsumu seems to be one of them. Without him realizing, the comfort he feels around Atsumu has turned into something much fiercer and this desire he feels is not unfamiliar, but the intensity of it is new. This surely must be love, or at least Kiyoomi’s version of it. And his version is as good as anyone else's. 

“I want to touch you,” he says after gathering his thoughts and placing his realization in a small box, tucking it away in the corner of his mind to revisit later. “I want to touch you but I have to do it my way. At my own pace. Is that okay?” 

“Of course it’s okay, Omi-kun. If I’ve ever made you feel like it wasn’t I—”

“No. No that’s not it. You’ve been—,” here he pauses, trying to find the right word to fully convey how good Atsumu has been to him and how much Kiyoomi appreciates that. “—perfect. You’ve been really kind. I just need to say that, for my sake as well as yours.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” Atsumu nods and then looks up at Kiyoomi who has moved to stand directly in front of him. Without realizing, Kiyoomi had taken small steps towards Atsumu and now he finds himself looking down at him, blushing slightly at the intensity of his gaze. He raises a hand to move some of the wet hair that has fallen across Atsumu’s forehead to the side, glancing at his face. Atsumu’s expression is open and honest and Kiyoomi sees his own hand tremble slightly as he touches the side of his face. 

“Lay down on the bed.” 

And he listens. 

Atsumu pulls himself up on his forearms and scoots down on the bed, lowering as he makes it to the middle of the queen sized bed. He shifts so he’s resting on his elbows, eyelids heavy when he looks at Kiyoomi. It’s like a flip has switched and suddenly there’s an intense sort of tension in the room. It buzzes against Kiyoomi’s skin and makes him anticipate what the night will bring. 

Kiyoomi’s eyes trace from the curve of Atsumu’s foot, up his calf, to where his parted thighs are straining against the shorts he’s wearing. Kiyoomi’s shorts. He hasn’t had a moment to really admire Atsumu in his clothing and though he’s not one to be possessive, even though the sight of him wearing something Kiyoomi has worn before should make him uncomfortable, it doesn’t. Instead it makes something hot unfurl at the base of his abdomen. There’s the desire again. 

His eyes trail further up Atsumu’s body, admiring the way his toned abs tighten just as Kiyoomi’s gaze sweeps over them. His torso is big and Kiyoomi has this intense need to sweep his palms over the skin just to feel the muscles shift under his touch. 

“God, you have to stop looking at me like that Omi-kun,” Atsumu breathes, throwing his head back just slightly, eyes closed. The curve of his throat looks entirely too appetizing. “I feel so stupid getting so worked up just because you’re staring at me.” 

“Sorry. You look good,” Kiyoomi simply says, digging a knee into the mattress to get himself up onto the bed, kneeling in between Atsumu’s parted legs. His hands hover right above his knees just for a minute before he lowers them on bare skin, touch dragging up toned thighs. The shift of muscle feels better than Kiyoomi thought it would and the airy sound it drags out of Atsumu feels even better. “I like your thighs.”

Those words pull another sound from him, something like a moan as his thighs twitch under Kiyoomi’s hands. A smile tugs at the corners of Kiyoomi’s lips, his hands moving to the inside of Atsumu’s thighs. The skin there is softer and when Kiyoomi scrapes his blunt nails over it he feels the other tremble under him. 

“Jesus Christ,” Atsumu moans, hips kicking up just slightly but Kiyoomi’s hands push them down again. He wants Atsumu to stay still while he explores his body. “Oh this is going to be embarrassing for me.” This part he says quietly, like he’s whispering it mostly to himself so Kiyoomi doesn’t pay it much mind. He’s too busy watching the red lines that have appeared over the skin Kiyoomi has dragged his nails down anyway.

Slowly, he moves forward, hands moving over the shorts to graze at the sides of his hip, grasping Atsumu’s waist in both hands and pulling him down. Interestingly enough, despite him being muscular he goes easily, pliant under Kiyoomi’s hands. It fans the fire in Kiyoomi’s belly. 

Atsumu’s knees bend and his legs part further to accommodate Kiyoomi in between them, the backs of his bare thighs touching the top of Kiyoomi’s. Their skin meets where Kiyoomi’s shorts have ridden up and for once the only thing he feels is electric currents that send jolts through his entire body, collecting at his core. Lust is not something Kiyoomi has any experience with but he learns about it here, with Atsumu’s eyes staring back at him, pupils blown wide enough that Kiyoomi thinks it possible to drown in them. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kiyoomi can’t help but say, thumbs digging into the exposed skin over his hip bones. Another quiet moan slips past Atsumu’s parted lips and Kiyoomi’s thumbs dig deeper. Slowly but surely he is getting addicted to the sounds spilling out of the blonde’s mouth. 

“Like what?” 

“Like you can’t get enough of me,” he says hands sliding over the tight muscles of his abdomen torturously slow. He goes up, fingertips tracing the lines of his pectoral muscles, taking his sweet time with it and he can almost feel Atsumu getting impatient but he’s still and pliant save for the occasional twitch of his hips. Kiyoomi can’t help but smirk.

“Omi-kun, you have no id—” he tries to say but the sentence doesn’t make it out, his words seemingly catching in his throat as Kiyoomi swipes the pads of his thumbs over Atsumu’s nipples, once, twice, before he pinches one between his thumb and index finger. “Oh my god. Fuck.” 

“You like that.” It’s not a question, simply an observation. 

“I like anything you do to me.” 

“You have a big mouth.” He thinks about Atsumu’s words. “Don’t say anything.” 

Atsumu just smirks and Kiyoomi huffs, tugging at both his nipples in order to wipe that cocky look off his face. Only the plan backfires because Atsumu moans, throwing his head back and exposing his neck once more and Kiyoomi can’t help but lean in, towering over Atsumu now as his lips hover right over the tender skin. 

One of his hands moves to support his body on the bed, right above Atsumu’s head while the other tugs and pulls at his nipple over and over again. He likes the way Atsumu is writhing underneath him and by now Kiyoomi is completely hard in his shorts. It’s incredible, the effects Atsumu has on him. Just touching him, listening to his moans and whimpers makes Kiyoomi burn with desire. 

Without thinking about it too hard, he maneuvers so his thigh is pressed right between Atsumu’s legs, the feel of his hardness sending a shiver down Kiyoomi’s spine. His hips twitch just once but there’s hesitation there. It’s like he’s unsure if this is okay. 

He moves one hand down, the tips of his fingers grazing bare skin as it goes, grasping at Atsumu’s waist and urging his hips to roll into Kiyoomi’s body. The desire burns him from the inside, the flames of it licking up Kiyoomi’s neck the more he looks at Atsumu’s reactions. When he understands what Kiyoomi is trying to do he lets his body be guided, noises of pleasure spilling in earnest now as he ruts against his thigh.

“Kiyoomi. I feel like—” another gasp makes the words catch in his throat, exposed and glistening with just the lightest sheen of sweat. Without thinking twice about it, Kiyoomi drops his head and licks a stripe up the column of his neck, relishing in the way Atsumu moans, loud and unrestrained. “Fuck. Fuck, I can’t. Oh, god.” 

“Is this okay?” 

“Omi-kun, you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” 

Kiyoomi just hums against his neck, tracing the tendon with his tongue before his lips latch onto a particularly-sensitive spot that makes Atsumu’s hips stutter. It’s interesting the way every move he makes pulls a reaction out of the blonde that Kiyoomi doesn’t expect and yet it makes his skin tingle. At this point he is painfully hard in his shorts but he can’t even begin to worry about that considering all he wants to do is make Atsumu shake under him.

The rhythm he’s set is frantic at this point, Atsumu’s spine arching and small, choked gasps fall from his lips with each drag of his clothed cock against Kiyoomi’s thigh. Kiyoomi continues sucking and licking at the skin of his neck, lips trailing up to the side of Atsumu’s jaw and back down again. It’s fun to tease the other like this, to be able to make the breath catch in his throat and his body shake with pleasure. 

It’s amazing that Kiyoomi can touch him, let alone be able to do all of this. He wants to continue for a long time. 

“Kiyoomi. I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come.” 

The knowledge that he’s done this to Atsumu makes Kiyoomi tremble, entire body shaking as he gasps against Atsumus neck. He never thought of himself as someone who would get affected by something like this but everything is different with Atsumu. He pulls things out of Kiyoomi that Kiyoomi didn’t even know existed. 

“Come then. Like this, come.” 

And it’s like Atsumu was waiting for those words because Kiyoomi watches the way his eyes close, head thrown back once more while he moans something sinful and loud. His spine curves, Kiyoomi’s hand dragging up his side as it does and his hips twitch, once, twice, against Kiyoomi’s thigh before his entire body trembles. 

“Jesus Christ,” Atsumu says, breathless and shivering still. “That was intense.” 

Kiyoomi hums in agreement, pulling himself up so he’s looking down at Atsumu again. Like this, his body flushed red and his mouth curved into a satisfied smile, he looks gorgeous. Kiyoomi’s heart beats rapidly against his ribcage, chest swelling with pride at the fact that he was able to cause this. 

“That was nice,” he says quietly, moving to lie on the bed next to Atsumu, leaning on his hand so he can clearly look at his face. Atsumu turns his head and he looks so relaxed, like everything he’s ever worried about has just floated out of his body. “I liked doing that.” 

Atsumu grins, not his usual cocky smile but something full of warmth and other feelings Kiyoomi doesn’t have the energy to decipher right now. His eyes trail over Kiyoomi’s clothed body, stopping at his waist, surely looking at the way his arousal strains against his shorts. “Are you okay? Would you let me help with that?” 

Kiyoomi shakes his head. 

“I’m okay for now.” 

Atsumu nods in understanding, turning on his side to look at Kiyoomi. He feels his heavy gaze trace his features, stopping at his lips. 

“Will you kiss me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but,” he worries his bottom lip in between his teeth. It’s endearing the way he does his best to word things in a way that Kiyoomi won’t feel pressured. “I like kissing you.”

Their previous kisses have been short, just small pecks here and there in the privacy of Kiyoomi’s living room or bedroom. When he leans in, Kiyoomi realizes this kiss will be different. One of his hands cups the side of Atsumu’s face, pulling him closer as Kiyoomi meets his parted lips. It’s slow at first but though they’re both coming down from the high of their heightened desires, they’re also impatient. Kiyoomi’s tongue traces at the seams of Atsumu’s lips and he opens up, welcoming him in and moaning softly against his lips. 

They kiss like that for a while, Kiyoomi using his hand to tip Atsumu’s head so he can kiss him deeper and Atsumu bringing a hand to rest on Kiyoomi’s hip when he gives the okay. When Kiyoomi pulls away he’s flushed and breathless and Atsumu is not that much better. 

“Go clean up. I can’t imagine drying come is that comfortable.” 

Atsumu scrunches up his nose and Kiyoomi huffs a small laugh at his expression. 

“Omi-kun, could you for once in your life try not to be so blunt?”

“I could try but I don’t think it would work,” he says as he sits up on the bed. 

He takes a deep breath and thinks about how far he’s come from who he was. How far he’s come with Atsumu’s help, with his quiet understanding and the way he accepts Kiyoomi without judgement. Kiyoomi feels so much for this man, feelings he knows he has never felt before and likely won’t again but he has the privilege of working through them at his own pace. 

“Come on, get up. I’ll give you another change of clothes so you can shower again. I want to take a nap afterwards.” 

Atsumu grins, bright and blinding, and stands. 

“I could go for a nap after the rigorous activities we’ve partaken in today,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows and Kiyoomi rolls his eyes but with that comes the slightest smile. 

This is good, he thinks. This is so good.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter [@babyamas ](https://twitter.com/babyamas)


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